Friday, April 10, 2015

Mary Worth 2031

Even though Adam's list of disabilities continues to grow -- gimpy leg, glass eye, swollen hand (or shrunken hand -- you decide) -- he still manages to perch himself on the extreme edge of Park Bench with great dexterity.

Today's strip.

14 comments:

smooth said...

Adam may be a bit gimpy, but he's a miracle worker with clothing. From t-shirt to no t-shirt yesterday and a button front, today he's morphed into a polo wearer.

I love consistency!

Carl's Laptop said...

Where does Adam get the money for blue hair dye (I've never seen it in the Just For Men section), canes, t-shirts and to relocate with his stack of suitcases to Santa Royale? I assume he's on work related disability, the new American Dream.

KitKat said...

"Protective Services put me on call 24/7. There was no room for us. There was no time to eat, either, but that was okay because there was no time for bathroom breaks."

Austin Powers said...

SHE'S A MAN, BABY!

fauxprof said...

Sooooo....nobody in protective services has a family, a significant other, or any kind of personal life? Diving into the path of a bullet seems like a reasonable way out of that kind of servitude.

Nance said...

Terry: Then why did you leave?

I'm assuming she means "investigations."

Now Adam gets to give his impassioned speech AGAIN about his devotion to McDugal. I feel like we're caught in an endless loop. This could replay over and over and over.

We may never get to...oh, who cares anymore.

Shmoopie said...

They have sat on that park bench so long, previously shown small trees and shrubs have reached full maturity. THAT'S how slow time moves in Mary's kingdom!

fauxprof said...

(Proving you're not a robot is getting more creatively bizarre. I just had to identify the guinea pigs among pictures of other animals.)

meg said...

Meanwhile, back at Charterstone:

Ian Cameron stands in front of his dressing room mirror, admiring what he sees. Ian is a substantial man in late middle age, with a fine white chinbeard and a stern but kindly demeanor.

(Tonight is an important evening for Ian, and he is carefully dressed for the occasion in the traditional dress of his native Highlands, including a sporran, his sgian dubh, his jabot, and his dirk and a lot of other items worn only by a true Scot).

He sings under his breath
as he painstakingly adjusts his dirk for optimum effect:
"Thaur is nae lassie, nae matter hoo sassy ,
who'll flip up th' kilt ay Ian Cameron."

Today marks the 698th anniversary of the Battle of the Pass of Brander, when the gallant Robert the Bruce let the Cameron Men in a fierce battle against the McDougall clan.

Although no one remembers what they were fighting about, or even who won, it is a night for a man to get his Scottish on, and he'll be joining a large group of like-minded and like-attired Bruces and Camerons for a dinner at the Santa Royale Holiday Inn Ballroom, where they will pretty much just drink and sing and shout and break wind and swear until they all pass out. Fortunately, the Holiday Inn is an easy stroll from Charterstone, as Ian's driver's license was suspended after the 697th anniversary.

But never mind, it's time for Ian's wife Toby to inspect his attire.

"Ian, your sporran is looking a little yellowish, I'll take it to the dry cleaners next week. And your left ghillie is untied, you'll trip on it. Why do you always wear that same red and green plaid skirt? A gray and blue one would look so much better with your coloring."

"Fur th' lest time, hen, it's a kilt an' it's th' clan cameron tartan."

"Oh, I know that, you big silly! Have a good time and don't get into a fight with your cousin Kirk Cameron. And take a taxi home if you have to."

"Ay, yer a grand lass- give us a kiss."

And Ian happily strolls down the paths of Charterstone on his way to his festive event, occasionally sipping from a flask of Auld Glenn Miller which he's concealed in his sporran.

Just then, he overhears:

"I took a bullet for McDugal."

Ian bursts out of the shrubbery and confronts Adam and Terry.
"Ye took a bullit fur Mcdoogaa? Ah'll pit a bullit in Mcdoogaa if Ah can fin' heem. Whaur is th' varlit?"

Adam summons up every bit of his protective skills, thinks better of it, and beats Ian with his cane instead

Terry: "My hero- you saved us."

Adam: "So we're a team again?"

Terry: "Yes, darling, an unbeatable team."

Adam: "I'm not so sure about that- he could have beaten us if I didn't have that cane."

Ian: 'SCOOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRRR!"

meg said...

led, not let

r u ok? said...

More anti-action please. We now see the sunrise I guess - and time is running backwards. Is this one of Adam's superpowers, freezing/manipulating time, but only during banal conversation?

I Am Not a Robot said...

Good gravy! What's with the Frankenstein-like brow ridge on Terry today?!?

KitKat said...

Oh @meg, I nearly choked on the apple I was eating. Hilariously creative yet again - huzzah!!

Anonymous said...

Yow! Nevermind Adam's giant hand - it's "shrunken" compared to Terry's!